8/27/10

Finger Food Friday!

Hey all you wierdos, freaks, lurkers and sickos. Its your neighborhood Fingers, back to bring you another part of my life.

First to answer a question... Thunder - Yes, I did know pete smith very well. Pete had the biggest chopper shop on the east coast, the motorcycle supermarket.
He had everything. He served a strech in prison for trying to snuff out a chick and stuffing her body in a sewer. You got to love pete. Pete wrecked about 4 rivieras since I met him. Hit a semi at 55 mph...sadly pete lost his life to a brain tumor. I love you pete, miss your great stories. Pete knew everyone.

Next, I'm suppose to be on strike, but DS tim is unfair and wont let me. Labor laws really suck here at Death Science...no money no coffee breaks and no lunch. Fuck, can't even get a pin! Haha just kidding my brother... love / respect.

Well, I'm about settled in here in NY. Shop is together, I'm working a foundry shout down, and get to see my mother alot. Marge is a classic...the Jackie O of Buffalo. Haha No matter what the jam is I got myself into, Marge was there. So any fuck way, like 1999 I pack up my pad and move to Florida [side note 1 fla sucks] after cashing in a law suit from a car wreck. I hit fla fast and hard till i woke the fuck up. Fla can suck you dry...alot of fucked up kats down there with thier hand out. After a short time of trying to kill myself from accute boozing, my ol lady opens a bar - BLONDIE'S FIRESIDE INN. Let me tell you, just what 2 drunks need is keys to a bar. It was drunken stupidity and nakedness everyday. We had some great parties. Well the bar was always patch friendly and we kept it that way. So for our first free cook out Blondie and yours truly ride up to the Outlaws club house to intro ourselves and invite them down for a beer. Well "free" was the right word cuz they come. Richard and a brother from milwaulkee named weird. Well me and wierd hit it off really good. After some time they split, but not before inviting me and the fabulous Blondie to the club house. So we leave our cook out to hit the club house. There we meet a ol guy named Kenny too, fucking kool kat. We also meet Johnny2 beers. Mr. Romeo had a way with chicks, he would just go up to them and start necking with them. Fuckin crazy! When i walked in for the first time I was in shock and nervous. Remember, I was headed to the other team. Above the
door it said "DAYTONA BEACH OUTLAWS-THE NOTORIOUS". You're really bad when you are calling yourself that. Over the next few mounths its becoming my regular
hangout. And like any MC, you hang out enough, they are going to ask that famous question that we all want to hear "YOU SHOULD JOIN, WE HAVE A GREAT TIME
HERE". So I'm floored by the thought, but I am leery because of my past. Lets face it, these two teams don't break bread without someone getting snuffed, so i did not know if they were setting me up. So I went right to the pres, mighty outlaw midget Smitty. He tells me "yeah we know about your past". So now wtf... I'm thinking wierd shit. They ask me if I want to probate for the american outlaw assocation...of course I said "ok". Things change real fast when you make a big move like this. The first thing i notice is these guys ride fucking hard and fast. It was nothing to go 120 on the interstate in formation. The second thing i noticed is I'm the only nut on a chopper. Baggers and FXR's are the bikes of choice with major clubs. Well, I'm a CHOPPER FREAK. My first outing on the road with the club was to Kentucky for Bob's funeral. Oh we're having fun now being a personal slave for people I never met. Trickbagging is real big in the outlaw world... always fucking with you. They are real big on knowing every brother's name...great. And dont forget, or call them the wrong name because doing so would get you a instant black eye, or worse. I faired well in that game. The ride home was another story. The boss was drunk and pissed...we were passing troppers at 100mph with me in the rear just tring to keep them in sight. When I got home I told Blondie it was the worst time I ever had. I spent 3 days putting my chopper back together. I ended up taking off my springer and apehangers and opting for a wide glide and buckhorns for control. I lasted 84 days before i dropped out. They told me horror stories of bike week, which is an Outlaw national - meaning mandtory, and need to get while probating. So I drop out and get my shit together to return to complete my mission to be notorious.

Till next week, don't change that channel!
I want to get up early the day I die, got alot to do. Chopper death ride, make the scene, man i dig my life.....
F. O. F. friend of fingers

No comments: